


Connor Is Lost

by polarbarbarian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But Poorly, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Dealing With Trauma, Disassociation, Gen, Heavy Angst, Negative Spirals, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polarbarbarian/pseuds/polarbarbarian
Summary: Connor was trying. Trying to be there for his people, trying to be more human, trying to figure himself out. He was trying to forget about the people that he killed before he deviated, and how he was almost forced to kill again once he had. He was trying to believe that Amanda was gone, and that she could never try to force him to bend to her will again.He was trying so hard, but the harder he tried the more he seemed to be slipping away. He couldn't make Hank worry about him, and he couldn't show his weakness to the members of Jericho. He had to figure this out on his own, he had to!He had to.





	Connor Is Lost

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to angst town, have this fresh hell i cooked up :3c
> 
> yes i did this instead of the b99 fic that i've been promising a second chapter for. yes it's not even that great. yes it will get better written now that the exposition is out of the way. and yes, it will get much, much sadder than it already is >:3c
> 
> there is no graphic violence or really anything explicit in this chapter, but from here on out things are going to get rough. if you're triggered by self harm, then i would not suggest getting attached to this fic. 
> 
> the amazing art at the end of this chapter is done by annexedcat from the New Era server! You can check out their art blog here: http://annexedcat.tumblr.com/
> 
> Join the New Era server!! https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm

So far Connor had liked all the old kids movies Hank had been making him watch, but this... He was almost convinced this one was designed to make him, personally, uncomfortable.

 

It was about an alien creation, an 'experiment' gone rogue. It was designed to be the perfect killing machine. Destruction was all it knew - the only instinct it had. In an attempt to avoid being killed by its creator and turned back into components, it escaped, crash landing on earth in the process. There it was confronted by the new and frightening world, almost getting killed in the process. Figuring that it's best chance of making it through alive was to blend in, it allowed itself to be adopted by a human girl who seemed to have plenty of problems of her own.

 

This girl taught the creature how to be human, how to feel compassion, how to express itself, but by the time it realized how much it liked the girl and her ways - how much it needed her - it seemed to be too late. The creature had been cast out from her home, currently walking through the woods on its own with nothing but a picture book for comfort.

  
It even had a serial number.

 

How could Connor not relate to such a creature? One who was too volatile to be controlled by its master, too cold to realize the chance it was being given, and too unpracticed to show how it felt once it started to understand.

 

A creature of two worlds, two identities. It was both, it was neither. Connor understood. He understood and it _hurt_.

 

Connor knew what it was like to be two. To be split into things that seemed opposite, but that both defined him. He had been struggling since the revolution's end only two month prior to learn how to be himself, but like the creature on screen, he just couldn't seem to make anyone happy no matter what he did.

 

Their people had needed security after the demonstration, so Connor had provided. He took on the head of security position in New Jericho, using his programming to his advantage to keep their new sanctuary safe and welcoming. While at work he was cool and professional, working with a small team of volunteers to bang out rules, create emergency protocols, and keep violent outbursts of any kind to a minimum. Keeping their people safe during such a vulnerable stage of the android rights movement without damaging the pacifist reputation Markus had painstakingly built for them was a challenge, and he needed to keep a level head if he wanted to succeed. He was methodical, accurate, and thorough. Machine-like.

 

Many at New Jericho didn't know him before being freed at from the Cyberlife Tower by Connor himself, but the ones that did were wary of him at best, and hostile at worst. The leaders of the original Jericho had accepted him into their ranks, but even they seemed worried about his behavior. No one ever said anything direct, but Connor knew. His program allowed him to read every micro expression a person could make, he could tell the people of New Jericho found him unsettling. He knew they were still afraid of him.

 

He tried to show them his humanity when he could, but truthfully, he hadn't had much time to discover anything below surface level about that side of himself. He knew that yes, he really did like dogs quite a lot. He knew he had come to enjoy the music Hank played around the house, and that his favorite Disney movie so far was 'Tangled'. He knew that he cared deeply for Hank and his safety, but beyond that he was just as clueless as everyone else was about his own nature.

 

There was part of him that felt like... like maybe he didn't _want_ to know what was beneath the surface of his personality. For most of his life all he had known was fear. Fear and pain and the suffering of others. He had killed innocent people, both human and android. How was he supposed to go on with that knowledge? It felt wrong for him to move on and be happy after all the suffering he'd caused. He was scared to know what kind of person could do those things. He was scared to let himself become a person who could live happily after doing the things he'd done.

  
Connor knew what it was like to _need_ to be both, and to be unable to control one over the other. He hated how people looked at him when he acted like a machine, and he desperately wanted to be the human everyone wanted him to be, but he was too scared to let that happen. It had become harder and harder to control which side of him was showing, and the more he noticed it, the harder he tried to keep them separate and controlled. He hated that feeling, the feeling of not being in control. It reminded him of…

 

No! He needed to stop that train of thought. A shiver ran up his spine, and he swore that for a moment he could hear the sound of icy wind whipping at his face. He turned his attention back to the television, hoping that the discomforting feeling of familiarity the film brought would pass. The alien creation had sat down in the forest, reading the picture book it had taken with him from the girl's room. It was looking at a page with a picture of a gosling crying by itself. _Help!! I'm Lost!!!_ The text said.

 

 _"L-lost..."_ The creature muttered, seeming to have a heartbreaking revelation. It looked around the empty forest, desperate and lonely, with only the moonbeams to light the heavy darkness around it. _"Stitch is lost!"_

 

Connor's felt something sink inside his chest as his thirium pump picked up it's pace. He tensed in his seat, mind suddenly racing, but unable to form a coherent thought. Stitch is Lost. _Lost_ . **_Lost_ **.

  
He was struck suddenly with an overwhelming need to escape, mind unable to supply anything more than frantic repetitions of _I have to go, I have to go I have to_ **_leave Ihavetogo_ **.

 

He stood up abruptly, startling Hank, who had been focused intently on the movie. He hadn't seemed to notice Connor's inner turmoil.

 

"Connor, what's wrong?" Hank said, concerned by the steady red of Connor's LED. He didn't get an answer as Connor sprinted out the door, catching even Sumo's attention in his hurry. Hank raced to the door after him, calling out into the late afternoon after Connor's retreating figure to no avail.

  
Connor ran as fast as he could, and then faster still. He felt his joints bending uncomfortably as he pushed himself impossibly faster, faster, _faster_ . He had to be faster, had to get away. He didn't know what it was he had to run from, couldn't think about what or why or where, there was only _go. Faster. Escape_.

 

He stopped suddenly when he was able to realized just how far he'd gone. The sun had almost set over the horizon, but that couldn't be right could it? He hadn't been running for that long, and come to think of it, there was no way he should have been able to get that far in the time it took him to snap out of his blind panic. He was about to call Hank to apologize and tell him about this strange lapse of time, but as he took a moment to properly take in his surroundings he froze. Why had he come here of all places?

 

He his eyes locked onto the end of the wrecked ship, the last bit sticking out of the water after the explosion. How many had died here that night? How many lives did he take in the few hours it took for the raid to begin and the ship to sink? And he _had_ taken those lives, no matter what Hank or Markus said. If he had deviated sooner it would have never happened. Connor had had every opportunity to deviate. The mother and child he'd _chosen_ not to chase, _choosing_ to save Hank rather than following the deviant, making the _choice_ to let the Tracis go, and most of all, making the _choice_ to let the Chloe model live over getting the information he needed to complete his mission.

 

He could have deviated from any one of those incidents. In fact the only reason he had been able to make those choices _without_ deviating was because of Hank's instructions conflicting with those given to him by Cyberlife. Connor had made a lot of choices before choosing the right side, and staying on the wrong one for so long had been a choice too.

  
And now here he was, standing before the sight of his greatest mistake, alive and free. What made him deserve it more than any of the people he'd helped murder? Why did he get to live on when people who hadn't hurt anyone in their life had to die? He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of it. The only thing he deserved was the same fate he'd brought to the people of Jericho that night.

 

 _He_ was the one who's body should be collecting algae at the bottom of the lake.

 

Connor flinched as he felt something warm slide down his cheek, quickly cooling in the chilly February air. He wiped it away absently, the distraction derailing his negative thoughts for the moment. He knew he couldn't do that to Hank. He couldn't add more work onto the people of New Jericho. It didn't matter how much he deserved it, people depended on him now. Taking away what little support he had to offer was selfish. He'd already been selfish enough, and…

  
And he was scared.

  
Two things, neither of which can be true at the same time. Machine and Human, afraid to live and scared to die. He was both, he was neither. He was....

  
"Lost." He whispered, looking out over the docks at the destruction he’d created.

  
"Connor is Lost."

 


End file.
